


Misunderstood

by briwd



Category: Major Crimes (TV), NCIS, The Closer
Genre: Drama, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briwd/pseuds/briwd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NCIS Special Agent in Charge Kate Todd and her team must jointly investigate the death of a four-star Admiral with the LAPD's Priority Homicide Division and its head, Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, whose journey in this AU has put her in a more precarious and volatile place than in canon. Kate has to keep Brenda from commandeering the case - which she won't do without a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Georgetown, D.C.**

**4:38 a.m.**

_bbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_

There are two things Special Agent in Charge Caitlin Todd sleeps with under her pillow.

Her NCIS-issued handgun, locked and loaded.

And her smartphone, set on vibrate.

_bbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_

She had her team's techie set her Android smartphone up with a super-strong vibrate feature that only kicked in if the call wasn't answered on the first two buzzes.

It had one single purpose: wake the dead.

_BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ_

Or an NCIS agent who was dead tired.

_BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ_

The fourth ring woke her out of her deep sleep. Whereas most people would take a few moments to gather their senses as it registered that the phone was ringing, years of training and experience taught Kate to answer the phone as soon as it buzzed.

_BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ_

She swore she saw the mattress shake, as she jabbed at the touchscreen to accept the call before it could-

 _BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZ_ -

"Dammit," she swore, as she finally accepted the call, still half asleep. "Agent Todd."

"Agent Todd," said Director Vance.

_Great. I just cussed out Vance._

"I know you and your team just closed a case six hours ago."

"The Major," she said, dragging herself off her mattress towards the kitchen.  _Iced coffee's better than no coffee._  "When? I couldn't tell you. Time blurs together."

"I'm sorry to do this to you," Vance continued. "We have a dead Admiral in Los Angeles-"

"Los Angeles?" Kate said, opening her refrigerator door to look for her iced coffee. Which she couldn't find. "That's a little out of my team's jurisdiction."

"Normally, yes. Not this time."

"May I ask why, Leon? Why can't the local field office handle it?"

"Kate, San Diego has its hands full with cases in Camp Pendleton and Yuma-"

"It's L.A., Director. You know who I'm referring to."

"OSP has its hands full with a case that's classified," Vance said, as Kate found her iced coffee behind the salad dressing. "For now, Callen and his team are off the board. Not even Hetty, and not Beale or Jones. Before you ask - Renko's off the board, and so is Macy."

"Must be a heck of an op," Kate said, iced coffee in one hand and her phone in the other as she sprinted back to her bedroom to find an outfit. "Not that I don't appreciate the confidence in my team, but why us?"

"Because the Admiral is a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and I want my best people on the scene to deal with it and the LAPD."

Kate sat down on her bed and drank some of her coffee.

"When and how did this Admiral die?"

"Admiral William Nelson, member of the Joint Chiefs for the last two and a half years, was found dead by a passerby in an alley behind a downtown Los Angeles restaurant an hour ago. I got the news five minutes before I called you from the LAPD's acting chief. Their Priority Homicide division is en route to the scene. I'll warn you; the woman who heads this Priority Homicide division of theirs is likely to claim the case as her own."

"Really," said Kate.

"From what I've hear from our friends at the Bureau, she could cause big problems for us, and for you," Vance said, his tone serious. "I need someone who'll stand up to her if necessary while investigating the case."

"There's more, isn't there," Kate said, seeing her Fourth of July holiday, and her plans to visit the Todd family reunion in Indianapolis, disappear.

"I'll fill you in on the flight," Vance said. "Bring Dr. Rooney, and Ms. Yates, in addition to your agents. I promised SecNav  _and_  SecDef we'd have our elite people on the ground. I realize you'll have to fly cross-country, but I want you to take control of the scene and the case before this deputy chief does."

"It's our case; we have priority," Kate said as she found a pair of shoes to wear, and looked for another couple of pairs for her go bag. "Who is this deputy chief and why is she a concern?"

"Brenda Leigh Johnson," Vance said. "Former CIA. Has a contentious history in Atlanta, and most recently in L.A. OSP dealt with her once. Hetty barely got the upper hand, Callen wanted to strangle her, and her actions almost got Agent Blye killed. She's said to be on a very short leash and a lot of people in Los Angeles want her gone; she still has enough loyalty in her division, and in the LAPD itself, that she's hanging on to her job."

"Does this woman have some connection to the Admiral that would make her commandeer the investigation?"

"No," Vance said. "This case is huge, one of the biggest we've ever had. And the woman we're going to have to work with is someone known to want total control and to win; once she gets a case, she's bound and determined to get a confession, and she will do whatever she has to, to get it."

"Sounds like Gibbs," Kate said, a twinge of sadness in her voice.

"In some ways, she  _is_  like Gibbs," Vance said. "But he was, at heart, a good man. You know he didn't like to play with others, but he wasn't so adamant about it that he'd put another agency's people in harm's way."

"You're saying she would?"

"Up until we ran into her a few months ago, no," Vance said. "Agent Fornell tells me that she's gone through a slew of personal issues, going back a few years, which have affected her marriage and her job. Recently, it's begun to affect every case her division is working, including this one—"

"Director, if that's the case how does she head a division in one of the country's largest police forces?"

"Kate, I've only heard the Bureau's side of the story – and Hetty's, Callen's and Blye's," Vance replied. "The LAPD regards the issue differently enough that she's still leading their Priority Homicide division for the present."

Kate grabbed her go bag, then rushed back to her bedroom to grab her keys.

"Needless to say, you're working with Deputy Chief Johnson, as long as she's willing to work with us. You have full authority to take complete control should the need arise, and you'll have full support from the other federal agencies."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Kate said, as she heard horns blaring outside.

She looked, and saw Agent Ned Dorneget's car, and him getting out and hurrying inside her building.

"Why is Dorny here?" she said to herself, outloud.

"Given the importance of the case, I'm putting you on a direct flight from Andrews to LAX, courtesy of the Bureau," Vance said, having heard Kate. "Agent Fornell will meet you and your team there; I sent Dorneget to give you a ride. Fornell will debrief you further, and I'll check in once you're in the air. Don't miss the flight."

Vance hung up.

_Andrews. Plane. Case._

_Crazy Woman?!_

She heard a knock on the door, looked through the peephole, saw Ned, and opened it.

"Kate," said her former Probie, now Junior Agent. "Director Vance told me to pick you up and drive-"

"Us to the airport," she said. "Got your go bag?" she asked, as Dorneget nodded. "Good. Sit down on the couch, give me a few minutes to finish getting dressed, and we'll go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Los Angeles**

**Golden West Lounge**

**Spring Street, west of Broadway and 5th**

**1:58 a.m. Pacific/4:58 a.m. Eastern time**

There wasn't a place to park for blocks, near the crime scene, between the multitude of LAPD cruisers and unmarked vehicles, plus those driven by agents from the FBI, Homeland Security and NSA. And the dozens of LAPD officers and federal agents, plus the team from the Los Angeles City Medical Examiner's office, around the Admiral's body.

Detective Sgt. David Gabriel would have to make himself a parking place.

He pressed on the horn of his car; each time, a few more people in the crowd gave way.

" _Ooooo_ hhh. Sgt. Gabriel, can't you make this thing go any faster?" complained his passenger, Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, head of the LAPD's Priority Homicide Division.

Gabriel had his right hand on the steering wheel. His left arm was stretched out the window, hand holding his badge.

"At this rate, Sgt. Gabriel, we'll get there right at dawn!" said Brenda, half-whining, half-fuming. "Of all the people to get killed, it had to be an Admiral of the Joint Chiefs...can't you blow your horn or something?"

Gabriel paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

"That's all I've  _been_  doing, Chief," he said, blowing the horn yet again. "To be honest, this may be as close as we get."

Brenda took her purse and checked to make sure her sneakers were there. Then - with Gabriel driving at five miles an hour - she opened her door and jumped out.

"Chief...Chief! CHIEF!" Gabriel shouted, bringing the car to a stop. Brenda kicked off her heels, and began to put her sneakers on. "Chief, wait. What are you doing?"

"Sgt. Gabriel," Brenda said, "it's two in the morning, our crime scene is just a couple of blocks away and I don't want to sit here all night trying to get past the FBI and who knows how many other people from all the federal agencies! I'm better off walking. And so are you."

Gabriel thought of talking her back into the car, then thought better of it. She'd do whatever she wanted.

"You should just park here too, Sgt. Gabriel. You aren't going to get any closer."

 _She's right about that,_  he admitted to himself. He put the car in park, walked over and closed the passenger door, locked it and jogged to catch up to Brenda, who was already in full stride.

They breezed past three rows of LAPD officers and, a half-block from the scene, saw the rest of the Priority Homicide team; they took a few more steps before two FBI agents stepped in their way.

Gabriel held up his badge and ID; Brenda stood there, impatiently.

"Hello, Brenda," said her ex-husband, FBI Special Agent Fritz Howard.

"Hello, Fritz," she said. "So  _nice_  to catch up, but I've got a crime scene-"

"ID and badge, please, ma'am," said the other agent, Ron Sacks.

She started to move past them; Gabriel gently put his hand on her arm, drawing himself a glare.

"Protocol, Brenda," Fritz said, politely and firmly. "Everyone has to abide by it, including LAPD, and including deputy chiefs. Even Chief Pope-"

" _Acting_  Chief Pope," Brenda retorted.

"-'acting' Chief Pope had to show his badge, and yes, he's here," Fritz said to Brenda, before turning to Sacks. "They're good."

Sacks nodded, then took up his position, allowing Fritz to accompany Brenda and Gabriel to the crime scene.

They made their way to the scene, lit with temporary lights provided by the FBI.

The Priority Homicide division detectives were examining the scene or waiting for Brenda.

Kendall, the coroner's investigator from the Los Angeles County Medical Examiner's office, continued to examine the body.

The lead agents from the Los Angeles offices of Homeland Security, the NSA and the FBI were either watching Kendall or one of the detectives work while "Buzz" Watson, the division's civilian surveillance coordinator, filmed the crime scene.

Will Pope, the acting Chief of Police, stood next to Kendall, saw Brenda, and motioned for her to come over.

"Will, if there ever  _was_  a priority homicide or a major crime, this would have to be it, wouldn't it," Brenda said, as she looked at the body of a man, in full Naval dress uniform, lying in a pool of blood. "Someone tell me who this gentleman is and what happened to him, please."

Pope nodded to one of the detectives to speak, but it wasn't Lt. Louie Provenza, Brenda's third-in-command, behind herself and Gabriel.

This was Captain Sharon Raydor, head of the LAPD's newly-created Major Crimes division who, in Brenda's opinion, was a thorn in her side, her foot and her backside.

The ranking NSA, Homeland and FBI agents on the scene watched very closely as Raydor debriefed Brenda.

"This is William Horatio Nelson, four-star Admiral, United States Navy, and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff," Raydor said. "The Admiral is an Oceanside native and had business-"

"Classified business," interjected Homeland agent Charles.

"—excuse me, was here on business of a classified nature. He stopped here at the Golden West Lounge for a late dinner. He was found by a passerby in this alley, approximately 1:05 a.m., an hour and a half ago."

Raydor nodded towards a young man 20 yards away, with three FBI agents standing beside him.

"Our witness says he shined his smartphone on the victim, saw blood and the hole in his forehead, and ran into the restaurant to get help. The assistant manager called LAPD, and a friend of hers who worked for the NSA," Raydor said.

"That must be how our friends from every federal agency found out about the Admiral, and got here before we did," said Brenda.

"The NSA called  _me_ ," Pope clarified. "I spoke with Agent Martinez, who heads the FBI here in Los Angeles, and convinced him we needed to be involved."

Brenda looked at the hole in the Admiral's forehead, then at the brain matter and blood on the ground. "This bullet wound looks familiar...Detective Sanchez...Detective Sanchez!"

"Here, ma'am," replied Detective Julio Sanchez. "Just like New Year's Day in East L.A."

Brenda groaned.

"A very enjoyable day," Provenza said, sarcastically. The case involving the so-called Raider and Ram gangs lasted nearly a month, and added to Brenda's troubles with both the LAPD - specifically Raydor - and the district attorney's office.

"One which none of us want to revisit unless absolutely necessary," Raydor said.

"Detective Sanchez, I hope this isn't the work of the Raider or Ram gangs," Brenda said.

Sanchez motioned for Kendall to step aside, and kneeled next to the victim's head.

"As you see, Chief," Sanchez said to Brenda, "there's a clean entry in the forehead. Now look here" - he motioned for her to look at the back of his head - "and you'll notice, without moving the skull, signs of a much larger exit out the back of the forehead."

"Detective Sanchez. You're saying the Admiral was killed the same way El Jefe was killed on New Year's," - said Fritz, referring to the leader of the Raiders.

"It's the same M.O.," Sanchez continued. "The entry and exit wounds in El Jefe's head were like you see here with the Admiral. I bet the bullet will be the same too."

Brenda looked down the alley, past Sanchez, and saw her newest, most loyal-after-Gabriel detective, Amy Sykes, approaching with a small bag in hand.

"Chief Johnson, I found Sanchez's bullet," she said, enthusiastically.

"You don't have to be so  _happy_  about it," shot Provenza.

"Enough," Pope snapped. "Detective Sykes. What do you have?"

"A .308 round, likely from a Remington M700," Sykes said. "Also known as a Bravo 51-"

"The same sniper rifle used to kill El Jefe," Sanchez said.

Brenda looked around, at the adjacent buildings, and at the alley, silent, gathering her thoughts - to the frustration of everyone else.

"Chief Johnson," said Raydor, "what are you doing?"

"Chief," said FBI agent Torres, second-in-command in the Los Angeles bureau, "we need to talk."

Brenda shooed them away, to Pope's exasperation.

"Do you see something, Deputy Chief Johnson?" Pope asked her.

Brenda turned around and pointed to Sanchez. "Detective Sanchez-"

"Excuse me," Torres said, pointedly. "We need to discuss a matter-"

"When I'm done," Brenda said, dismissively. Fritz rolled his eyes and went to his superior in an effort to calm her down, as Sanchez made his way next to Brenda and Gabriel, with Pope, Connelly and Charles following right behind, and Raydor observing from a short distance.

"The shooter would have had to been in that building" - Sanchez said, pointing to a 12-story building across the street, "shooting from a window on a floor with a clear line of sight. I'd say it was the fourth floor."

Sykes pushed past Gabriel - to his surprise - and put herself next to Brenda. "As you know, Chief Johnson, I served in the military, and had some sniper training," she said. "The angle of the shot would suggest the shooter was on the eighth floor, possibly the seventh."

"And you guessed this off the top of your head?" Gabriel asked her, annoyed over her persistent exuberance and ass-kissing.

"Detective Sykes, I'm inclined to agree with you," Brenda said, with Sykes smiling and Gabriel rolling his eyes in response. "Now, Agent Torres, you said you wanted to talk-where  _are_  Lieutenants Flynn and Tao?"

"Across the street," Provenza said. "A woman said she heard a shot across the street, and Flynn and Tao went with a couple of FBI agents to check it out."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Provenza, and Agent Torres, you said you wanted to talk?"

"Yes," she said, slowly growing pissed.

"Well, we can start by having your agents help Lieutenants Flynn and Tao and Provenza, and Captain Raydor if she's inclined, go check out every room in the building-"

Pope held his hand up to stop Brenda.

"-and see if we find any sign of this shooter-"

Pope moved his hand over Brenda's face.

"-and Sergeant Gabriel, we'll need to pull security camera footage-"

Pope moved his hand - and put his face - in front of Brenda's.

" _DEPUTY CHIEF JOHNSON_ ," he shouted. "Before you delegate responsibilities to your team - and superiors - you, Agents Torres, Connelly, Charles and I will confer about this case. There are facts you need to be aware of which we need to discuss in private."

Brenda paused, looked at Gabriel and Provenza, then Sykes and Sanchez, and Buzz, then at Raydor. "Y'all wait here, while I meet with Chief Pope and our friends from the federal agencies, to see what's so important. Thank you."

They walked towards a secure tent. Torres ordered Fritz to follow her in.

"What is he doing here?" Brenda asked Torres and Pope.

"Agent Howard is here due to your actions in your last joint case with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Pope said to her.

"NCIS? The Special Ops agents? What do  _they_  have to do with this?" Brenda said.

"The victim is an Admiral in the United States Navy, and NCIS investigates crimes involving members of the Navy," Torres shot back. "You mean you don't understand why NCIS would be here?"

"Agent Torres, we'll get to NCIS's specific involvement in a second," Agent Connelly said, to keep the discussion on topic and Torres and Brenda out of an argument. "Deputy Chief Johnson. The parallels with the beginning of the Raider/Ram gang war are interesting, and in the opinion of the NSA, not a coincidence. Agent Torres, please."

She took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"The M.O. with the Admiral and El Jefe is the same as in the deaths of a group of NCIS agents seven years ago," Torres said. "All shot in the head, by a sniper, .308 casing from a Remington M70. We think the person, or persons, involved in their murders were involved not just in El Jefe's killing but in several drug-related deaths stretching from Los Angeles to the Florida Keys. And that this person or persons have strong ties to terrorist organizations in the Middle East."

"Homeland agrees, and so does the Agency," Charles said. "We think this is bigger than the remnants of two local gangs."

"There's a terrorist involved," Brenda said. "Alright, but this is still our crime scene."

"No it's not, at least entirely," Pope said.

"Yes it is," Brenda retorted. "At worst this is a joint case but we still have jurisdiction since it happened here in our backyard-"

"I spoke with the director of NCIS a short time ago," Pope said. "He's sending his elite team from Washington here to investigate. Those men and women replaced the people Agent Torres just referred to."

"This isn't the team you, ah, worked with earlier-" Fritz said before Brenda cut him off.

"And what is that 'ah' supposed to mean, Agent Howard?" Brenda replied.

"It means this is personal to these people," Fritz said. "Not because of the Admiral. If his death is connected to theirs, then the Admiral's death definitely is intentional."

"Again, the Bureau and other intelligence agencies believe this may be the work of the person or persons who killed the NCIS agents," Torres added.

"And these agents from Washington are going to want justice, especially if the Admiral's killer did in fact murder their own," Fritz said.

"NCIS is willing to work with Priority Homicide - and Captain Raydor's Major Crimes division - to investigate the crime, and for now the other agencies including the Bureau are willing to let us and NCIS run point," Pope said. "But...if you pull rank, or do anything like you did in the Griffin Park case, they have authority to commandeer the case and take over the investigation completely."

Brenda mused on that for a moment.

"They've been debriefed Brenda," said Fritz, calmly. "Rodeo Drive, Griffin Park. No one here, or there, thinks your actions were intended to harm them but-"

"Not here, Fritz!" Brenda shouted at him. "I didn't kill her, try to kill her-"

"Not intentionally, Chief Johnson," Pope interjected. "Your actions in capturing the killer put that agent and one of our undercover cops at great risk-"

"Will, they knew the risks, and they're the ones who acted without telling me-"

"Chief Johnson, given the profound disagreement over who was to blame during the last fiasco, I want to make sure we're  _all_  on the same page," Pope shot back, loudly and pointedly. "You and NCIS will work jointly. If you go off on your own, you and your division will be taken off the case."

"And NCIS will have the full backing of all other agencies in this case regarding any decision it makes, whether to work jointly or unilaterally," Torres added. "This isn't some movie star or billionaire. This is a decorated Admiral, a member of the Joint Chiefs. A high-ranking officer. Understand that though you and NCIS will do the footwork, we and the other agencies will be watching closely and ready to step in."

Brenda looked at Torres, then stared at Fritz, then glared at Pope.

"If y'all are through talking to me like a child," she said, "when are these NCIS agents from Washington getting here?"

"They're in the air," Torres said. "They should be here no later than 6:30, four and a half hours from now."

"Well, that's nice, so let's make sure we throw them a wonderful welcome basket," Brenda said sarcastically.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**in a Gulfstream C-37A jet, somewhere over Utah**

 

Kate Todd - the Special Agent in Charge of the Major Case Response Team operating out of NCIS's Washington/Navy Yard field office - loved her job.

 

For all its stresses and challenges, its ups and downs, she wouldn't trade it for almost anything in the world, not even the Secret Service.

 

There were a lot of perks that came with her chosen career, one she never would have considered as a long-term career a decade ago.

 

As she sipped on her freshly poured coffee, she pondered being on this plane, flying cross country, and, just briefly, the chain of events that led her here.

 

Kerry. Ross. Air Force One.

 

Gibbs. 

 

Tony, Abby.

 

Haswari. What he did to her.

 

Jenny, Ziva, Paula. Haswari’s return.

 

That day that was twilight, dusk and nightmare rolled into one.

 

The month of funerals.

 

Vance, Stan, Stella, Hetty, Noah, Katie. Sharif. Langer, Keating, Lee.

 

She and Stan; she _minus_ Stan.

 

Israel, Eli, Bodnar. Miami, Horatio. Kensi, Callen, L.A., Rivkin. New York, Mac, Danny, Lindsey, Castle, Beckett, Reagan. Demming.

 

E.J. Jonas. Franks. Dearing.

 

Mossad. Save Eli, save Jackie, kill Bodnar. Rule 12 - his, not hers - broken in Berlin.

 

Then. Now.

 

Kate felt around for her phone and couldn't find it.

 

"What time is it? Anybody?" she asked aloud, figuring someone in the small Gulfstream cabin would know.

 

"5:29 a.m. Pacific, 6:29 Mountain, 8:29 Eastern," said her medical examiner, Noah Rooney, returning from the head. “We are presently over the Mountain time zone, Caitlin, headed towards the Pacific.”

 

Once, at a crime scene, Mr. Rooney was mobbed by fans convinced that he was a certain TV star and demanded he account for the actions of one Gaius Baltar.

 

"Did you look at your watch or did your invisible robot friend," Kate joked. It was one of their many inside jokes - she figured the man sitting next to her in the cabin, FBI Senior Agent Tobias Fornell, would not get the joke.

 

"Actually, I looked at my cellphone," said the clean-shaven Englishman, who also had to dodge the occasional questions about his relation to a certain superstar footballer (answer: no relation). "I left Number Six at home."

 

"How is Mallory," Kate replied, asking about Rooney's girlfriend.

 

"Relaxing ahead of her trip," he said, launching into the beginnings of a very long story about his girlfriend's trip to South Sudan to work with Doctors Without Borders; her desire to complete her task of vaccinating an entire town; and his hopes to join her, while...

 

"...taking a side trip," he continued. "That reminds me of the one safari my father took me on when I was seven. We left Heathrow--"

 

"Noah," Kate interjected, politely. "I'd really love to hear about it. Let's wait until we land and get to a slow point. Besides, I want you to rest as much as you can before we land."

 

"Ah. Not a problem, Caitlin," he said, returning to his seat, and falling asleep promptly.

 

Kate didn't have the luxury of sleep. She was on her third cup of coffee, with no idea how many more she'd go through before this very very long day came to an end.

 

She and the other eight men and women were grateful for making the long flight from Andrews Air Force Base to Los Angeles International Airport in relative - if cramped - comfort, and not on a jam-packed commercial flight.

 

The only person not yawning and drinking down coffee was Senior Special Agent Ziva David, who was the most awake of everyone not in the cockpit.

 

"You mainline caffeine, David?" said her seatmate, Special Agent Tom Demming, who joined Kate's team nearly two years ago after serving as a homicide detective for the New York Police Department. "Zap? Or do you even _need_ caffeine – or rest?”

 

Demming held up a nearly empty, 24-ounce can of Zap, a popular energy drink. Ziva looked at him amusedly.

 

"I drink this" - he said, pointing to the can - "so that on days like _this_ I can function."

 

"Days like what, Tom?" Ziva answered. "Jetting cross-country in luxury?"

 

"No, days like _yesterday_. Chasing some crazy-ass major and his petty officer girlfriend all the way down to Hicktown, middle of Virginia, tire gets blown out, we get shot at while I'm changing it, run the idiot down, on foot, for a mile, nearly get hit by a state patrol car, _finally_ catch up to the guy just as he runs into a dozen federal agents outside a rest stop," Demming said without taking a breath.

 

Then, he yawned, loudly.

 

"You're welcome," Kate replied, glancing back at him. "Sound tired. Want some coffee?"

 

"I want some Zap, boss," Demming replied, before taking another drink from the can, then realizing the can was all he had.

 

"Is your drink gone?" Ziva asked.

 

Demming laid it down on the floor before remembering Kate's rule 35 - and tossed it into the garbage can sitting next to FBI Senior Agent Tobias Fornell's seat.

 

"Nice shot, Demming," Fornell told him. "You should've made it last. I called ahead earlier, we'll have donuts, bagels, coffee and energy drinks to go when we land at LAX."

 

Demming turned around in his seat, and looked back at Fornell and Kate.

 

"What I should've done is grabbed three or four of those cans, not one, out of the fridge before I left," he said. "I could've used every last drop."

 

Demming saw a can flying through the cabin towards him; Ziva was much quicker and caught it before he reached out, and handed the can to him.

 

"Great. _Diet_ Caf!-Pow," he said, as he looked towards the person who threw it from the back. "Katie, how do you drink this crap?"

 

A young woman, wearing an outfit that included a large smiley face pin on her jacket lapel, stepped forward. "You gonna complain, Tom Demming?" said Katherine "Katie" Yates, NCIS's chief forensics analyst for the past six years. "It's Diet Caf!-Pow. It gets me through the day and has zero calories. Now drink up."

 

"She made me drink two," said Ned Dorneget, also sitting in the back. "It's just now kicking in."

 

"That's right," said Katie, whom Demming noticed was a little sleepy, but just as chipper as usual. "I'm going to drink one more, and I should be wide awake when we land. Now drink up, Sam Anders."

 

Sam Anders - a character from the rebooted Battlestar Galactica television series - was one of Katie's nicknames for Demming. He, in turn, nicknamed her Kaylee Frye, for her very close resemblance to the character from the Firefly television show.

 

"Alright, Kaylee, since you asked," he said. "Don't complain next time I go down to the lab and bring you Zap because the cafe was out of Caf!-Pow."

 

"Tom, be careful when you remove the tab so you do not spill any on your crotch, like last time," Ziva added, before giggling.

 

"It was pitch black dark in the middle of the night when we were on that undercover op and I had no idea that soda cans...did that when you shook them and left them lying for a week, okay? Okay?" he said, to chuckles across the cabin. "Now I'm going to drink Katie's Diet Caf!-Pow and" - he said, holding the can away from himself and Ziva - "open it carefully."

 

It sprayed onto the cabin wall.

 

"Cleaning bill's coming out of your paycheck, Demming," Fornell joked.

 

While Katie went to wake up Sheldon Jin - the team's technical analyst – and NSA liaison Ellie Bishop, Ziva giggled at Demming.

 

"What? I didn't get any of that on you."

 

"I am glad, Tom," Ziva said. "When I worked with former Director Shepard in Serbia, we once stayed awake for 52 straight hours, pursuing and being pursued by Herzegovinian Independence League members intent on killing us both. We did not sleep. We did not get tired. We completed our mission with success."

 

"You were also 21. When I was 21 I spent an entire weekend awake, studying for finals, chasing down a really hot cheerleader, and cutting loose at this three-night, end-of-the-semester party thrown by the soccer team," Tom retorted. "When you're 21 you can do stuff like that. When you're our age, you need some help."

 

Kate listened to Ziva and Tom's banter, and smiled.

 

"Remind you of someone?" Fornell said.

 

"Tony and Ziva, after Jenny brought her to the team," Kate replied. "Those two, now, make me wonder about the partnership she and Tony could have had if he, you know..."

 

Kate's voice trailed off.

 

"Kate. What could've been, isn't," Fornell said. "What you have is a great team, one of the best I've seen...the group of detectives you'll be working with in Los Angeles is one of the best of its kind in the entire country."

 

She reached down and picked up the information folder the FBI had prepared for her on the Priority Homicide division and its chief.

 

"Before we land - and I realize there's no private room on this plane - we need to discuss Brenda Leigh Johnson," Fornell told Kate, lowering his voice. "Deputy Chief Johnson is many, many, many things, Kate. I met her once when I went to Los Angeles to help the local office investigate a interstate gambling ring. One of the victims turned out to be a former UCLA football star, and a high profile one at that. Her division got the case, and I saw her in action for myself."

 

"How was she to work with, Toby?" Kate asked.

 

"Everything the report said, negative and positive," Fornell continued. "This was right after she and Agent Howard divorced. She was zeroed in on the case, and she went after the suspects...there was a girl, the granddaughter of the deceased, who was kidnapped by one of the killers. Brenda put everything into finding that girl, more than finding the killer. So anyone you run into who says she has no heart, she's all about herself and closing her case, that's not true."

 

"Sounds like you're defending her," Kate said, reaching into her handbag. She pulled out the report from Hetty Lange on her team's case with Priority Homicide. "This says otherwise."

 

"Deputy Chief Johnson made a near-fatal mistake with two of your agents and made it much worse with her reaction after the fact," Fornell said. "I don't disagree with Henrietta's conclusions. All I want to tell you is there is more to this woman than what Griffin Park made her out to be."

 

Kate thumbed through the report, found the portion she was looking for, and read it aloud to Fornell.

 

"'One informant dead, 13 LAPD Special Operations Bureau officers dead or injured. Agent Blye injured and out of action for weeks, Agent Deeks got out with a sprained elbow and nearly had his arm torn off in the crossfire'. She not only not apologized, she tried to turn it around on us, Toby. No wonder Hetty and Callen were pissed!"

 

Fornell sighed.

 

"Kate, I spoke with people in LAPD and in the L.A. FBI office after that...incident," Fornell said. "I've spoken a lot with Fritz. Kate, if anyone has reason to demonize her it's him. I won't get into the personal issues he divulged, but I know too well how nasty divorces can be. He still thinks she's a good investigator, and at heart a good person. The way he described her to me, in a single word, is 'misunderstood'."

 

"Misunderstood?"

 

"She wasn't warmly received when Pope brought her into to lead her division," Fornell said. "She gradually earned the trust and respect of those under her, and her peers, and others throughout the department. She began to lose some of that with the divorce, and then with the Four-Week Gang War, and Griffin Park...when the former chief of police died in that wreck, she lost her biggest supporter."

 

Kate paused. She understood fighting to get respect as a woman, and respect as a team leader. Her respect from Vance was...well-earned, she would tell others.

 

But she either stuck to the rulebook or kept it in sight, and never treated her team nor other NCIS personnel, nor outsiders, poorly.

 

"Misunderstood," Kate repeated. "Sounds pretty clear to me, Toby."

 

"There's more to her situation than appearances suggest," Fornell said. "It's the opinion of the Bureau that, due to recent events and her sometimes unwise reactions, she feels cornered and she is cornered. If this victim was some rapper or politician or star actor, we'd sit back and watch. This victim is the highest ranking military officer in the nation, and neither we nor NCIS nor Secretary Porter are going to sit back and let this investigation get derailed by LAPD politics."

 

Kate leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees, and rested her chin on her intertwined fingers. _God I could use a few more hours sleep before we start._

 

"Thanks for the advice, Tobias," she said, after straightening up. "I want to read through your brief again."

 

Fornell handed the brief on Brenda to Kate, and she began reading through it, sorting out the b.s. from the truth, and trying to get a grasp of this woman who, whether they realized it or not, had so many _men_ worried sick.


	4. Chapter 4

**6:35 a.m. Pacific Time**

**Los Angeles**

**Parker Center**

**Priority Homicide Division squadroom**

 

When she got back from the crime scene, Brenda Leigh Johnson locked herself; her right-hand person, Sgt. David Gabriel; and her ex-husband, FBI Agent Fritz Howard in her office.

 

What they were talking about inside, no one knew for sure, but everyone in the squadroom had their opinions.

 

"She's this close to getting herself canned," said Detective Lieutenant Andy Flynn, between bites of his donut. "I bet she's talking with Fritz about getting herself and Gabriel into a decent job."

 

"They're talking about jurisdiction," offered Detective Julio Sanchez. "Fritz is in there telling her the FBI is going to work with those Navy cops. No way the Feds don't take over because the victim is an Admiral."

 

"An Admiral murdered within our jurisdiction," said Lieutenant Michael Tao, organizing credit card records of patrons from the Golden West Lounge, where the Admiral dined at before he was killed.

 

"Maybe the Deputy Chief will find a way to make the Navy cops do all the work and get the credit for herself," said Lieutenant Louie Provenza, nominally the ranking officer in the division after Brenda, in practice third after Gabriel. After Brenda's divorce, and her solidifying Gabriel as second in command despite his junior rank, Provenza went from one of her most loyal supporters to a disgruntled cop sticking around out of loyalty to all of his other colleagues.

 

Except for his newest colleague, Detective Amy Sykes.

 

"I am sure Deputy Chief Johnson is discussing the case as she will do when NCIS arrives shortly," said Sykes, eager-to-please. "Why would you think otherwise?"

 

"Oh. I beg your pardon, Detective, for being so negative," Provenza grumbled.

 

"Oh, we know you meant nothing by it sir. Your generation of detectives and officers, have always been gruff," Sykes said, in a manner the others still weren't sure whether she was naively sincere, or sincerely sarcastic. It was definitely a little condescending, whether she knew it or not, and it grated on everyone else's nerves - except, seemingly, Brenda herself.

 

"Gruff? Stop the bullshit," Flynn shot back, "and show the man some respect. We're detectives, Sykes. We don't accept things at face value--"

 

"I didn't say you did, Lieutenant," Sykes replied, hurriedly, to Flynn. "And I don't accept things at face value either, but neither do I see the worst in everyone."

 

"Then what do you see, Sykes?" interjected Sanchez. "Everyone's good, especially your bosses?"

 

"Well, Detective--" Sykes began to answer; she never got to finish.

 

"She sees the same things some of you saw at a similar stage in your careers," said Assistant Chief of Operations Russell Taylor. "Chief Pope and I noticed some similarities between yourselves and Detective Sykes at her stage of her career."

 

"Thank you, Assistant Chief Taylor," she happily said, to the other detectives' momentary chagrin.

 

"Detective Sykes also has a lot to learn, including listening to the helpful advice of her more experienced peers, and when to keep her mouth shut," Taylor followed; Sykes's smile disappeared, while the other four detectives couldn't help but smile - even if it was said by a man none of them particularly liked. "How long has Deputy Chief Johnson been in her office with Gabriel and Agent Howard?"

 

"Fifteen minutes," Provenza replied. "Locked herself in her office after we got back from the scene. Gabriel and Fritz went in there to talk to her, what did I say, Flynn--"

 

"Fifteen minutes ago," Flynn said.

 

"--and who knows _what_ they're talking about," Provenza followed. "Perhaps, how not to royally screw up this case with the Navy cops like she did during Griffin Park--"

 

Taylor held up a hand. "Lieutenant, Deputy Chief Johnson doesn't solely bear the blame for that incident...and this is a _new_ case. She - and all of you - will, as you know, be working with a new team of federal agents who, in fact, are upstairs talking with Chief Pope."

 

"I better go and let the Chief know," Provenza said, getting up from his desk and making his way to Brenda's office door.

 

Inside Brenda's office, she was fretting over something affected by the case.

 

"How am I going to have time to sell my house?" she fretted.

 

" _Our_ house," Fritz replied. "My name's still on the deed and I still pay the mortgage."

 

"Yes, of course--Fritz can you meet with the realtor this afternoon?" she asked.

 

Fritz threw up his hands in frustration. "Why of course, Brenda, although it will require me to drop a case, the same case you yourself are working on," he said sarcastically. "Why don't you just stop everything, too, and we'll meet the realtor together?"

 

"Why that's a good idea, Fritz. Let's--wait. We can't do that. I can't do that," Brenda replied. "I--"

 

"You. Always you. Always about you," Fritz shot back. "Never about others like Sgt. Gabriel, who are doing their jobs and have part of their lives interrupted by probably the highest-profile murder in recent American history--"

 

Gabriel - as he had done dozens of times before, since the divorce - stepped in between to act as peacekeeper. He held his hands out to get their attention and to calm them down.

 

"Chief Johnson, Agent Howard," Gabriel said. "If you could table that particular discussion for another day. NCIS will be here any time--"

 

"I know when NCIS will be here, Sgt. Gabriel," Brenda told him. "I'm ready to meet them."

 

"Are you?" Fritz said to her. "All we've done is talk about the house--"

 

Fritz's diatribe was cut short by a knock on the office door; it was Provenza, with Asst. Chief Taylor alongside him.

 

"Chief," Provenza said, poking his head in the doorway. "The Navy cops are upstairs talking with Pope--"

 

"Actually, Deputy Chief Johnson, they're on their way to the squadroom," Taylor interjected, after opening the door and placing himself past Provenza.

 

"Then, gentlemen, let's go out there to meet them, shall we?" Brenda opened her desk drawer, grabbed a package of King Dons, and opened it, then walked past Gabriel, Fritz, Taylor and Provenza. " _Pardon_ me. _Excuse_ me."

 

As soon as she made her way to the middle of the squadroom, she saw Pope with Captain Sharon Raydor, and the entire team from NCIS's Washington field office, walking in through the main entrance.

 

"...were going to build a replacement for Parker Center, but budgetary issues forced us to postpone the new headquarter project indefinitely," they heard Pope saying to a brunette, walking between he and Captain Raydor, with Tobias Fornell walking next to Raydor. The brunette was NCIS Special Agent Kate Todd, and her team walked behind the four. All looked like they needed at least 10 hours of sleep.

 

Just like the homicide detectives did.

 

"Ah. Here we are. Priority Homicide," Pope said to the brunette, before turning his attention to those in the squadroom. "Attention, please. I know you're tired due to the timing of the case, which is just beginning and, I might add, is one of the most important cases any division of the LAPD has ever worked on."

 

"Here we go," Provenza muttered under his breath.

 

Sanchez and Flynn were checking out the women among the group of agents, only averting their eyes when Brenda noticed and gave them a disapproving glare. Fornell made his way past Pope to Fritz, and they shook hands.

 

"For our friends from Washington, this" - Pope gestured to Brenda - "is the head of Priority Homicide, Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. And this" - he gestured to Kate - "is Kate Todd, a Special Agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, and the agent in charge of the Washington, D.C. field office's Major Case Response Team. They're similar to Priority Homicide, but handle other types of cases - similar to what we plan for our new Major Crimes division."

 

Pope cleared his throat, then continued. "Before we have FBI agents Howard and Fornell discuss the case, perhaps Chief Johnson and Agent Todd should introduce their teams, and everyone can wave their hands in acknowledgement."

 

"This is like frickin' school," Flynn whispered to Sanchez, and both chuckled  - drawing Brenda's glare.

 

"I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson,” she said, “and Chief Pope is right, some of us know some of the others but not everybody. So I'll start by introducing everyone in Priority Homicide, and if you'll just wave your hand, yes, including you, Lt. Flynn, thank you."

 

She began by nodding to one of the men standing next to her. "This is Sgt. David Gabriel, and over there, sitting down is Lt. Louis Provenza, and then left to right, Lt. Andy Flynn; Det. Julio Sanchez; that's Buzz Watson, who handles our technical needs; then Det. Amy Sykes; and over there is Lt. Michael Tao. And the gentleman sitting to my left is Agent Fritz Howard of the FBI, and I'm sure you've already met Capt. Sharon Raydor of Major Crimes. And last is former Commander, now Assistant Chief, Russell Taylor. Thank you, and I'd love to get to know you a little bit."

 

Brenda smiled, while Taylor bristled at her "last" comment. "I'm Russell Taylor, the Assistant Chief of Operations for the LAPD," he quickly interjected, before turning his attention fully on Brenda. "I directly oversee both Major Crimes and Priority Homicide." He turned back to the group, smile painted on his face.

 

Kate didn’t miss that all of the Priority Homicide people – including Brenda – rolled their eyes at the man’s pompous comment.

 

"I suppose this is my turn," Kate replied. "I'm Special Agent Caitlin Todd. The dark-haired woman to my left is my Senior Agent, Ziva David. Then we have Agents Tom Demming and Ned Dorneget; our liaison from the National Security Agency, Eleanor Bishop; our technical analyst Sheldon Jin; our forensics specialist Katherine Yates; and our medical examiner Noah Rooney. The other person who arrived with us is FBI Senior Agent Tobias Fornell. On behalf of my team, it's a pleasure to meet you and we look forward to working with you."

 

Fornell and Howard then briefly reviewed the case, beginning with the discovery of the Admiral's body.

 

"The FBI and every other federal agency is looking on with extreme interest," Fornell told the room. "NCIS is involved because the victim is an Admiral; LAPD is involved because of the nature of the crime and that it took place in Los Angeles. You may be under the impression that the feds, as some of you call us, have unlimited resources. We do not. If this were Timbucktwo, Kentucky, NCIS and FBI would have taken the case from the local authorities."

 

"However, I assured the NCIS and FBI directors that Priority Homicide was up to the task of handling such an important and high-profile case," Howard followed. "How well you work together, and potentially with other agencies - including the Bureau - will go a long way towards the success of the case. You are some of the best professionals in your respective fields, and we need your expertise."

 

Pope stepped forward a foot.

 

"I don't have to say to you, Priority Homicide, that this joint operation working successfully will reflect very well not just on your division but on the LAPD as a whole, and failure will reflect equally badly," he said. "I expect you to do your best, and to work with NCIS, and to capture this killer."

 

Fornell stepped forward, as Howard walked over to Tao.

 

"I suppose the killer - or, the man the FBI views as the top suspect - is as good a place to start as any," Fornell said. "Lt. Tao, and Mr. Watson, when you find the photos, please put them on the screen...this man has engaged in terrorist activities several years ago and is the confirmed murderer of seven NCIS agents and personnel - members of Agent Todd's team. He is also believed to be involved not just with major terrorist groups like Al Qaeda and Hezbollah, but with four different drug cartels in the Caribbean and Mexico, all with ties in the U.S."

 

Howard nodded. Moments later, the suspect's portrait, and several additional photos, went up on the projection screen next to the murder board.

 

"Meet Ari Haswari."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priority Homicide and NCIS learn that the FBI's held back an important piece of information about the suspect in the murder of the Admiral; Brenda presses Fritz over the Bureau's actions during a recent joint case with LAPD.

**Chapter 5**

 

When the suspect's portrait went up on the screen, Brenda instantly turned her attention to Kate, looking for her reaction.

 

Brenda recalled media reports of the mass shootings in Norfolk, Virginia, and the Navy Yard in Washington nine years ago, and the shooting death of the NCIS director and one of her senior agents two years later. Haswari's face was familiar, as it was plastered across the media on both occasions; inevitably, the media moved on to other stories and the public turned its attention to more timely matters.

 

Only those personally affected by the incidents remembered them, and the victims.

 

Obviously, Agent Todd was one of those people.

 

Through a former associate she met during her days in the CIA, Brenda knew a little more about the two incidents - codenamed 'Twilight' and 'Trojan Horse'. She also knew a little of Agent Todd's background, and found herself impressed with the agent's ascension from a junior-level agent to head of her agency's most elite investigative team.

 

Brenda wondered how much flack Agent Todd had taken during her rise up the ranks, and if the agent had been as misunderstood by others as Brenda herself was.

 

As Agent Fornell filled in the backstory of the NCIS team, and of Haswari, Brenda briefly looked over the other NCIS team members, and saw only one other person with any degree of anguish on her face: agent David.

 

The sister of the man who murdered Agent Todd's teammates.

 

 _How on earth is she even there,_ Brenda thought. She asked her source just that, and the source shrugged.

 

Brenda's source suggested Ziva's presence on the NCIS team was due to favoritism from a former NCIS director, but feigned ignorance when Brenda pressed for details.

 

She got as much out of her contact as possible within a 15-minute span, and determined to find out more information about the Washington team once she got a handle on the case.

 

"...the brass found in the shooter's nest in the building, even the nest itself, is consistent with what we and NCIS found in Norfolk and at Rock Creek Park in Washington," Brenda heard Fornell say. "And in other cases across the U.S. and Mexico the Bureau has been involved in during the past six years--"

 

 _Other cases?_ thought Brenda, and as she caught a glance at Agent Todd, Brenda could tell Kate was caught just as much by surprise.

 

"Excuse me Agent Fornell, excuse me," Brenda said. "You said other cases?"

 

"Yes," Fornell replied, looking as if he regretted making the reference.

 

"How many cases?" Kate interjected, her reaction showing that she may have flown in with Fornell, but she wasn't privy to that particular detail.

 

"Twenty-three," Fornell said, and Brenda noted that of all the people in the room, only Fritz looked unsurprised.

 

"Hold on, hold on; Agent Fornell, this guy's killed 23 other people besides the Admiral and those NCIS agents?" Taylor interjected. "I didn't see that little detail in my copy of your report."

 

"Neither did I," Kate said.

 

"That makes three of us," Brenda said, smiling with approval of the first good thing she thought Assistant Chief Taylor had said or done in months. "Why _wasn't_ that mentioned in the report on this suspect?"

 

"Haswari has been confirmed only as the murderer of former Director Shepard, Special Agent Gibbs and his team," Fornell replied. "He is considered a potential suspect in the murder of the Admiral--"

 

"Our only suspect so far," Kate interjected.

 

"--our only potential suspect so far in the Admiral's death," Fornell continued. "The 23 shootings I referred to are parts of cases the Bureau is working jointly with other agencies, and for various reasons involving classified intelligence and getting permission from other agencies..."

 

Fornell gave his long-winded explanation as members of both teams were trying to figure out what he was really saying - or rolling their eyes at what they considered to be double talk - or both.

 

While he was referencing Mexican federales, Sykes crept over to Brenda, and handed her a post-it note with a single handwritten word:

 

GRACELAND

 

Brenda whispered to her 'get on it', and Sykes nodded, heading back to her desk, waiting until the meeting was finished to call her contact.

 

"How soon can you get background on these 23 shootings to us?" Kate asked, seemingly growing more annoyed at Fornell by the minute.

 

"I'd like to know that myself," Brenda interjected. "I'm sure Agent Todd wants her team out there finding the killer, and I know damn well I want my people out there with them, not waiting on your bosses to ask permission or give their thumbs up on giving us vital intelligence on our case. Now you said you could get us the information in a half-hour?"

 

Fornell looked at her in confusion. "What I _said_ was I'd contact my superiors in Quantico, and that due to the nature of the cases we're working with these other agencies--"

 

"We're not asking who your people are playing James Bond with," Pope interjected. "The LAPD wants, and expects, the full cooperation of the FBI in this case. If this suspect is involved in these other killings, we want whatever information, within reason, that would help us and our NCIS partners solve this case."

 

Fornell looked to Fritz for help and support, as he was the only one in the room who might give it.

 

"What Agent Fornell is saying, Chief, is he will fast-track your requests up the chain, to get that to you in an hour, or as soon as he possibly can," Fritz answered. "Remember, this murder took place just a few hours ago. We're doing a lot of this on the fly."

 

Kate, leaning against a desk, stepped forward, towards Fornell.

 

"I understand that, completely. But I expect that information to be sent to myself, and to my director, as soon as possible," she said.

 

Brenda looked at Taylor, who glanced at Pope, and then looked to Pope.

 

"I also expect that information sent to Chief Johnson, and Chief Raydor, and Chief Taylor and myself, as soon as possible," Pope said to Fornell. “And, having spoken to the Mayor just an hour ago, he would be most appreciative of any effort the FBI would make to assist the LAPD on this most important case.”

 

“We want to be able to inform the large contingent of media downstairs that the FBI is doing everything in its power to assist us and another federal agency in their joint investigation, not impeding it,” Taylor said.

 

After the meeting broke up, Brenda jumped out of her chair and went straight for Fritz, then nodded to Gabriel. She noticed Kate heading straight towards her; she nodded again to Gabriel, who moved to intercept the NCIS agent, only to be cut off by Kate's own second.

 

"Excuse me," Ziva said to Gabriel as she 'accidentially' bumped into him. "That was rude of me. I am sorry."

 

"That's alright," Gabriel said, seeing Kate tailing Brenda as she grabbed Fritz and dragged him towards her office. "Excuse me--"

 

"Are you the second in command here?" Ziva said, which got Provenza's attention. Gabriel's status within Priority Homicide was very much a sore spot with the older man, who technically outranked Gabriel. Provenza broke off from Flynn and Sykes to make sure Ziva knew who the second in the department was.

 

Brenda noticed Gabriel and Ziva in the corner of her eye, and thought she'd have to slam her door in Kate's face; she wanted to talk with her ex-husband one-on-one, and wasn't ready yet to coordinate with the NCIS team.

 

Of all people, Raydor 'bumped' into Kate, just long enough to allow Brenda and Fritz to get into her office and lock the door.

 

Brenda wasted no time.

 

"When in the hell was the FBI going to tell us about these 23 other people this Haswari man killed?" Brenda shouted. "Did you not think that might be relevant to our investigation?"

 

Fritz held up both hands in surrender. "We were going to tell you," he said. "Fornell did tell you. Just not everything at once."

 

"He better tell us everything relevant to the case," Brenda said. "That means which other agencies the FBI's working with, so we can contact them ourselves."

 

Brenda noticed Kate dragging Fornell out of the squadroom with Raydor following behind. "I mean it, Fritz. Remember that case you and Sykes and Raydor worked before Sykes got reassigned to my department?"

 

"Yep," Fritz said. "Five months. Not that long ago. Told you everything I could."

 

"I still don't know everything about 'Graceland', and I'm not talking about Elvis Presley's mansion," Brenda shot back. "You realize how much time we wasted investigating that Paul Briggs character before we found out he was one of you?"

 

Fritz looked to the side, seeing Tao, Flynn and two of the NCIS people trying to mediate between Ziva, Provenza and Gabriel. "Graceland is to a large degree classified and _that's_ why you still don't know all the details," he told Brenda. "You, we, caught the killer, which satisfied Pope--"

 

"But it didn't satisfy _me_ ," Brenda said. "We found a Bravo 51 rifle in the man's garage - a 'Kate', ironically enough, considering our guests who flew in from Washington, D.C. - and that has me wondering if there's any connection to this case. And if the 'Bureau' will fess up to it if there is."

 

Fritz exhaled in frustration. "Of course the FBI will 'fess up'. We're not going to hide anything," he told her. "A member of the Joint Chiefs is dead. Nobody's hiding anything. Just some more red tape to cut through, that's all."

 

"Uh huh," Brenda replied, walking over to unlock her door. "I'll meet you down at the coroner's."

 

Leaving Fritz in her dust, Brenda walked out, looking for Agent Todd, asking Demming where she went; Demming pointed towards the elevators.

 

"She looks mad," Bishop said of Brenda.

 

"As mad as Kate is at Agent Fornell," Dorneget added.

 

"We all know how Kate can be when she's pissed," Demming said. "That Johnson woman has 'alpha female' written all over her. I'd hate to be Fornell right now."


	6. Chapter 6

_**It's been forever since I updated this story: life literally got in the way. Time to finish what I started so long ago...**_  
  
 **Somewhere in Los Angeles**  
 **NCIS Office of Special Projects**  
  
There was never a normal day at the office for Henrietta Lange.  
  
No day was ever the same for the Operations Manager who oversaw NCIS's top undercover team and the field office it worked out of. Some days were mundane, and some -- like today -- were ripe with danger.  
  
The team was investigating a suspected domestic terrorist cell thought to be operating out of nearby Laguna Hills, perceived to pose a serious threat to the Navy. All three agents, the team's LAPD detective liaison, and the NCIS assistant director who oversaw the OSP were embedded within the group. The investigation so far had uncovered that the group was sitting on over $40 million stolen from the downtown branch of the Bank of Los Angeles, and a cache of weapons stolen from Camp Pendleton.  
  
The diminutive, bespectacled and intense Lange oversaw the op from the OSP's headquarters. She was more concerned than normal because the cell leaders had sanctioned brutal torture or murder of members suspected of working with law enforcement. If her people were found out, depending on the time and place she could get an NCIS strike team to rescue them -- or be forced to pray they could save themselves.  
  
So, today wasn't a good time to contact Lange about something outside the op. However, Kate was well aware Lange would break away momentarily if her assistance was truly needed.  
  
So she called Hetty from an empty interview room she found open near the elevators. "Hetty? It's Kate. I need your help."  
  
"Hello Caitlin," Lange said. "It is good to hear from you, but I'm afraid I don't have the luxury of time at the moment."  
  
"You're busy."  
  
"Yes, very much so. But you didn't call just to say hello."  
  
 _How did she know that?_ Kate thought, of the woman who gave her a crash course in Team Leadership 101, 201 and 301 after former director Jenny Shepard decided to have her lead the Washington MCRT. "No, Hetty. I need to be read in on your team's last op with the LAPD's Priority Homicide Unit."  
  
"Oh dear," Hetty replied. "Brenda Leigh Johnson."  
  
"Yeah, and anything you have on her subordinates. Plus the details of the op."  
  
Hetty paused for a few moments and quickly figured out what to have Kate do. "I take it Leon sent you and your team here because of the case involving the Admiral?"  
  
"Yes. It's become more complicated than I like. She's being difficult to work with."  
  
"I will have Mr. Beale send you Mr. Callen's report. We should talk face to face as soon as possible, but you will need to come here. How soon can you do so?"  
  
Kate checked her watch as she noticed Sgt. Gabriel in the hallway, heading for her. "Tonight. A little busy at the moment."  
  
"Contact Mr. Beale or Ms. Jones when you can get away," Hetty said. "Bring someone with you. I will see you then."  
  
Kate hung up just as Gabriel walked in. "Agent Todd. Chief Pope's looking for you."  
  
"I'm sorry, Sergeant. I had some NCIS business I needed to take care of," Kate said. "Let's go."  
  
Back in the squadroom, Pope was very exasperated not at Kate but at Brenda who had locked herself in her office. She took advantage of Kate's short absence to give herself some privacy to text an old friend from the Agency.

  
_SUGAR AM CALLING IN THAT COFFEE YOU OWE ME WHERE IS THAT SHOP AGAIN?_

_YOU SERIOUS?_

_SERIOUS AS A HEART ATTACK YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE THEIR CUPCAKES :)_

_IT'LL HAVE TO BE TONIGHT; JAVY'S JAVA, WEST 11TH SO HILL_

_I'LL SEE YA THERE, BRING YOUR PLANNER_

_WHAT!!!_

_I KNEW IT WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM! THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH :)_   


  
  
Only then did she acknowledge Pope and Fritz pounding on her door; she smiled, seeing Gabriel and Kate walking back into the squadroom behind them. Brenda opened her office door and put on her best smile to both men.  
  
"Gentlemen, so sorry. Had something to take care of quickly."  
  
"It better be life and death," said a very peeved Pope.  
  
"Well I wouldn't go THAT far Will. I need my tooth looked at."  
  
"Your tooth?" said Fritz, agitated by Brenda and wondering who she had just texted. "Brenda--"  
  
"Oh. I see our guests are all back. Let's not waste any of their time."  
  
 _What about mine_ , Pope thought as she waltzed back into the squad room.


End file.
